Counting the Blessing of Home

I feel like I'm turning into an egg.

I'm easily frustrated, because all I want to do is lie around and protect the baby or get ready for the baby or make lists about stuff I need to do (but can't do) before the baby comes. All inward turning stuff.

I woke up at 4:30 in complete terror that the baby would come too quickly, that I'd have her at the house, and that she wouldn't be able to breathe because I still didn't have a nasal aspirator to suck out the gunk from her nose and throat. My incredibly kind husband went to Wal Mart at 6 am and bought me one, and baby nail clippers, so that I'd be able to sleep. I went back to sleep holding the packages.

I posted about the aspirator nonsense in a Face Book note today. My friend Amy, who is a nurse, responded that if I didn't have one, to do a reverse mouth-to-mouth/nose with the baby and just suck instead of blow (and then spit!). I have now sworn to carry the aspirator everywhere I go!

I'm dilated to a 5, and still 7 weeks out. I begged my perinatologist to let me off the hook and only come twice instead of three times a week. He took this into consideration and said I could either come three times a week, or I could be monitored full time at the hospital.

I chose 3 times a week, and a room at home.

Where I can freak out and my husband can humor me.

I am blessed.